


If I'm Very, Very, Very Lucky

by ThatsBrilliant



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005), Doctor Who RPF
Genre: F/M, Fluff, RPF, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-14
Updated: 2013-11-26
Packaged: 2017-11-29 05:46:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/683532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatsBrilliant/pseuds/ThatsBrilliant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She never thought she'd bump into David Tennant.  She never would have expected what happened next.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Bar Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> My first ever fanfic post. Please be kind. I don't know if anyone is interested in my daydreams! Explicit content in later chapters. This is a work of complete and total fiction. I'm not that lucky.

The place was dead. It had been twenty minutes since she’d gotten her drink and not a soul had walked in. Just her and the bartender, who was trying to make it look like he had something to do.

She was pondering downing the rest of the Guinness to end the evening when she heard the soft ding of the elevator across the small lobby. Looking up, she saw a skinny gentleman step out and head straight for the bar. She startled, then froze, watching him.

The word gentleman came to mind as he was dressed in what seemed to be the remnants of a suit. The long-sleeved button down was open at the collar and missing cuff links. His slacks were rumpled from a long day but you could still see that they were stylish and perfectly fit. His slightly bowed head moved in rhythm with his ambling gait. His hair was shaggy and his five o’clock shadow blatant. Hands in his pockets, his made his way without pause to a bar stool.

She gaped, she recovered, she gaped some more. By the time he was settling down on the other side of the circular bar, she had gotten the bartender’s attention.

“His drinks are on me,” she said quietly, carefully.

The bartender nodded and moved to the gentleman’s side of the bar. They were just far enough away that she could watch their interaction politely. The bartender spoke to the gentleman and gestured towards the lady across the way. The man looked up, his deep brown eyes meeting hers, then crinkling at the edges as a smile tugged his lips sideways. He tossed a hand in slight appreciation. She kept enough presence of mind to raise her pint glass in response without saying anything.

The gentleman ordered a drink, then looked around sharply to take in the lobby. Still mostly dead, a family at the counter, an older traveler checking his phone in a club chair. The lady at the bar stared down at her beer and pressed her lips together. Her eyes flicked towards him, not allowing any excess movement. The distance between them was just far enough that any conversation would be uncomfortable. Would he say something, would he come over, would he ignore her now that the thank you wave was over with?

The gentleman accepted his whisky neat and in an instant was striding around the bar.

She startled inside again but remained still. Suddenly, impossibly, incredibly, there he was, sitting down next to her, placing his drink next to hers, looking into her face with a friendly but slightly guarded expression.

“Hello.” His voice was light and Scottish. 

“Hi.” _Don’t overdo it_ , she warned herself.

“Thank you for the drink.”

“My pleasure.” Her genuine smile warmed the words. Now that he was next to her, she allowed herself to look directly at his eyes, his hair, his high cheeks and sharp jaw. He was older than she’d ever seen him – _I guess that makes sense_ – but while leaving 40 behind was written all over his face, it hadn’t taken away anything vital, and added more besides.

“Are you traveling, then?”

“Oh, no.” She shook her head. “I actually live around the corner. This is the only bar that’s walking  
distance from me. Just needed to get out of the house.”

“Ah.” He tilted his head back in a nod. She wasn't sure if he believed her.

“And you? Traveling on business?” She was amazed how casually the words came out.

His head turned to look at her, dark eyes glancing at her features, looking for something.

“Yes, actually.”

“Long day?” she continued, smiling knowingly.

“Er, yeah, was up at the crack of dawn, appointments and meetings, power lunch, take-away dinner…do I look that bad?” He grinned, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Wellll,” she said, stringing the word just a little longer than necessary, “you did look like you needed a drink.” _Watch it, that was a bit much_.

“And that’s it, then?” He spoke gently. “A drink for me because I needed one?”

“Of course. It was up to you whether you felt like a conversation.”

“Ah, cheers to that!” He raised his glass. She clinked his with her pint and they enjoyed a moment’s silence while drinking.

She made sure to finish her sip before him. “Do you get back home often? To Scotland, I mean?”  
He finished swallowing and took a breath. “I’ll go home for short breaks but the work is in England. I mostly live in London, now.”

She almost brought up being away from family but decided against it. “It’s a shame. Scotland is lovely.”

He looked at her inquisitively. “ You've been?”

She smiled once more, glad to have his attention. “Yes, I had friends who lived in Edinburgh for a time.” She took care to pronounce the city’s name correctly. “I stayed in their flat above a shop. Walked the city, visited the castle. I’m terrible with names of streets and places. We hiked the nearby hill overlooking the town, called Someone’s Seat, right?”

“Arthur’s Seat,” he corrected her, a big grin on his face. Her heart melted.

“That’s it! What a lovely town, beautiful countryside.”

“Wow, you’ve actually been there, that’s brilliant!” The grin wasn’t leaving, his eyes were shining now, and she couldn't possibly look away or think of anything else to say. 

The pause became a lull, a look that lingered too long. Think of something, she told herself, anything, or he’ll figure it out.

“My name’s Jennie.” She offered her hand.

“Nice to meet you, Jennie, I’m David.” He took it with a slow shake, held it a second and then let go. She couldn't help but worry that she had held on too long.

“David.” She allowed herself to say it aloud, which was rather dangerous, but there was no stopping all of this, now.

“Listen, I am sorry if I’m not the best conversationalist at the moment, I’ve done a lot of talking today.” He shook his head; his tone honestly apologetic.

“Oh, no, don’t be sorry! I am enjoying this, there was no one here before, I was feeling like such a sad sack having a drink by myself, and you’re lovely company.” _I can’t stop saying ‘lovely’._ “If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine, too.”

He left off shaking his head and looked steadily at her. “Really? Ok if I don’t talk?”

“Sure, whatever you like.” The way he looked at her made her nervous, and her voice betrayed her.

His head dropped slightly and he sighed before speaking. “Ah, I see.” 

Her heart sank. Perhaps she could still save it.

“It doesn’t happen here often, does it,” she said simply, staring away from him.

He looked up. “What?”

“Getting noticed. It’s very different in the UK, but here, you might go a few days without getting hounded for an autograph or forced into someone’s photo. Unless you’re attending a convention or something, of course.”

He said nothing, watching her. She kept looking away as she continued.

“There aren’t any conventions right now. You’re probably doing press work, but all your latest stuff has been UK only, right? We’re in the LA area so maybe you’re trying to get into an American TV show or movie? I honestly don’t know, I don’t follow that closely. I never would have expected to see you here. I just came in for a drink and a stumble home.

“I didn’t want to bother you, but I did want to acknowledge you, in the least intrusive way possible. I left it to you, to talk or not. Then, when you came over, I tried my best to not go fangirl on you. I didn’t want to gush or beg for you to call a friend of mine.”

She turned to look into his big pretty eyes for what could be the very last time. She had nothing to lose.  
“I also thought you looked like you needed a drink.”  
He didn’t smile or scowl or turn away. Instead, he locked his gaze, and she could see he was thinking, making a decision. She couldn’t believe it, any of it, but particularly this moment, of being allowed to just look and look. _He could stand up and walk right out of here now and I’d still feel like the luckiest woman alive,_ she thought.

But he didn’t walk away. He gently took her hands in his.

“Jennie,” he said quietly, his Scottish burr curling her name around his tongue, “I’d like you to come have a nightcap with me.”

\---


	2. The Suite

She said nothing. She was still lost in his eyes, still convinced this was a dream that she was trying to hold onto. But now he was standing and she was getting up, and he was walking and she was holding his hand, his hand! The hand that held Rose and Martha and Donna and more. He led her to the elevator. The doors slid open without delay and then they were alone, together, as the lift brought them to the top floor.

They smiled at the awkwardness of the silence and privacy of the short ride. Then they were there and he’s pulling the key out from his pocket and then they’re inside the suite.

It was the master suite of this not-so-fancy hotel, but still an impressive space. A proper foyer with mirrors greeted them and a living room with a view lay ahead. There was more to see but she could not care less about the room itself.

“Please, make yourself at home,” he said, releasing her hand. She moved absently to a sofa and sat on it, unsure what to do or say next. He walked into the full kitchen. “Cabernet? Brandy?”

“Wine would be lovely if you’re opening a bottle.” _There’s that word again._

“Alright then, I’ll join you in a glass.” He busied himself with the opener.

She looked out the window and took a deep breath. _Let him lead. He has all the power now. He’s obviously done this before._

He grabbed a couple of stems from the cupboard and splashed some wine into them. “So. I wanted to tell you, I appreciate what you said.” In three steps he was next to her on the couch and handing her a glass.

“You do?” She felt like a schoolgirl, holding the glass in both hands, taking a sip for strength.

“Oh yes.” His emotive face was full of conviction. “Look, I am ok with people asking me for things, autographs, photos. I enjoy it. I try to connect with people, you know, and when they feel that connection and reciprocate, it’s the best thing ever.” His gaze wandered away. “However, there are days when it all gets a bit much. You’re right, you know,” he continued, eyes now back on hers, “I do get a bit of a breather in the States, though I think the popularity is still rising here. It’s great to see the show grow, but it’s kind of nice, to, you know, be hidden away for a mo.”

She was nodding, not too eagerly, she hoped.

He sipped his wine. “So I do appreciate being thought of as a human being, and not…” he trailed off, a smirk pulling his lips, “well, not as a Time Lord.” She startled a little at the direct reference, something she hadn’t dare utter, or even think too loudly in his presence.

He smiled broadly and looked at her squarely. “But what I want you to know is that for someone like you….someone who sees me as a person, another person….that for you I’d love nothing more than to give you an autograph or a phone message or a picture with you. Whatever you’d like, as you say.”  
She smiled back helplessly and said, “But I don’t want any of those things.”

His eyebrows arched in familiar, gorgeous surprise. “No?”

“No, I don’t. I don’t want some sort of proof that I met you or a souvenir I can carry with me. I wanted to meet you, and I wanted you to meet me.” I sound ridiculous. Her voice shrank and her gaze pulled downward, her cheeks reddening.

“Well, you got your wish,” he said, and wonder of wonders, he touched her cheek, making her look up, into those deep brown eyes again. “Is that all you wanted?”

“No,” she breathed, unable to respond any other way. “No, I wanted…I wanted…”  
He leaned forward, stopping her words with the gentlest brush of his lips.

\---


	3. The Sofa

She responded, lips slightly parted, just a touch and a breath and a scent of each other, mingling in that small space between them. His hand was still soft on her cheek and she had scarcely moved. The barest of kisses, and then he brought his tongue to her, softly tasting. Hers came to meet him, and then they danced and pressed and oh it was delicious. Her hands fluttered to life like butterflies, touching his chest, his leg on the couch, his neck, his cheek. His hand on her cheek turned to hold her face and his other hand explored her thigh.

More kissing, more probing of tongues and tasting the other. The heat was rising in her body and she knew that whatever he wanted was what she wanted too. His passion rose and his hands went wandering, pressing hotly into her hair, her shoulders, her back, but nowhere more sensitive.

They came up for air. _No respiratory bypass here,_ she couldn’t help but think.

He smiled at her, both bold and slightly sheepish, almost questioning. She tried to smile back in approving response but it came out more of a pant than a grin. He licked his lips and then they were kissing again, more passion, more touching, more need. She was being pushed backward.

They paused again, nose to nose, he almost on top of her.

“Jennie,” he breathed. Now he was panting, too.

“David,” she murmured. A mischievous gleam sparkled in her eye. “I can call you David, can’t I?”

“Er, yes,” he said in mock consideration, “though you can call me ‘Doctor’ if you like.”

Her jaw dropped but his laughing mouth was on her in an instant. More kissing ensued, then a more pointed pulling at clothes by both sides.

“You surely don’t mean that?” she gasped the very moment she could tear away.

“Wellllllllll,” he said, stringing the word a whole lot longer than necessary, and suddenly sounding like a Londoner for that matter, “it all depends on you. Are you an actual fan or not?”

Here she was, top nearly pulled off, hands in his sexy hairy chest, and he was doing The Voice. His natural brogue was amazingly attractive enough, but to actually hear the voice she knew so well, right in front of her…

She pushed up an eyebrow in knowing imitation. “Yu-p,” she said, popping the ‘p’ as dramatically as possible. 

He laughed and took her top completely off, hands on her belly and waist, arms wrapping around and reaching for the bra strap. “Right then, best to ask permission first, may I please remove your bra?”

He was doing it again, the accent, the quick speech, the facial expressions. Suddenly, she felt herself draw back.

“No.”

His surprise was so strong he slipped back into the burr. “No?”

“No, I mean no, don’t do the Doctor. It’s fake, it’s not real, it isn’t you. Be David for me.” His amazing grin was instantly back. She followed up in her worst British accent, “And yes, please remove my bra, as quickly as possible, thank you!”

She saw his tongue curl up to touch the roof of his mouth as he expertly removed the offending clothing. He slipped it away and paused to take in her bare breasts, letting his hands slowly cover them. “Ah, lovely, lovely,” he murmured, her skin tingling with his touch and her mind awash in hearing her over-used word in his beautiful, natural accent. His mouth took a nipple and he hummed and moaned as his long tongue wrapped around it. She was in delirium, nothing but feeling and sighing and moving with him.

Just this beginning, this bit of play was more intense than actual intercourse with many other men. He had obviously made up his mind to have her, and once set, he let go, he unleashed, he brought forward all his passion and intensity of the moment. Even as she knew she wasn’t some sort of special case, his attentions were so focused it was impossible to not feel special, not feel like you were the only woman in the world he had ever wanted.

She was fumbling with his pants now, belt buckle and buttons and zipper, and he was helping her. She thought again of her impetus to buy him the drink – just to say thank you, just to show that she cared about him – and felt the same drive in wanting to touch him and smell him and make him crave her. _Whatever he wants, I want._  
Between steps of undressing there was more kissing, tracing kisses on her neck and shoulder, his jaw and ear, slowing them down to more intimate skin on skin, hands and lips and cheek buried in his chest, heaving sighs and sudden warmth when clothes melt away. They slowed and slowed and suddenly he paused, pulled away slightly to look at her, eyes darting all around her face. She bit her lip and worry creased her brow. Was he thinking twice? It was entirely possible he could change his mind and regret the impulse of the moment. Just as she was about to say something he pulled himself towards her and began again, all fire and motion and panting into her neck and breasts and back to deep, passionate kissing.

_He wasn’t sure, he looked, and then he was sure. He wants_ me.  
Just this knowledge and his renewed eagerness was nearly enough to put her over the edge. They were down to panties and boxers now (knickers, she thought, and almost giggled audibly) but they both knew it was only a matter of time. 

_I could snog him forever,_ she thought, reveling in how the British had gotten that bit of slang so perfectly right.

He slowed slightly and pulled back, hands on her breasts. “I’d like to take your panties off now, if I could.” He sounded husky and somehow even more Scottish than before. Just the words elicited an involuntary moan from her. 

“Please, please.”

He pushed her away from him on the couch and pulled at her panties. When she was free and open to him she saw his tongue lick the roof of his mouth again, this time in anticipation. 

_Oh God his tongue, his incredible tongue, I can’t even imagine…_

He brought his face down, closer, closer. He placed his hands under her and breathed her scent in. She could barely hear him as he murmured, “Oh, Jennie, you are magnificent,” and then his tongue was inside of her.

Fireworks, stars, waves of rolling electrical pulses, just feeling, feeling, almost wondering if he was alien after all, his long, gorgeous tongue inside of her seeming to touch everywhere, and she, riding and riding that wave, carrying her so easily along. She lost her sense of time and place and all control of her own body.

Her cries were barely human; she was adrift and nearly drowning. A word came then and she grabbed it, a rock in a thrashing sea.

“DAVID! Ohhhh David, DAVID…..”

She could not know what he was doing down there or how long it continued. His hot breath and clever tongue were all she knew, pushing her so quickly towards the shining light in a relentless rhythm she had never known. Her hands were in his incredible hair and she was coming, coming so hard and quick, wanting it to last but not in control in the slightest. He held her ass firmly and helped her finish, only slowing when he was sure the last waves had crashed.

For the briefest of moments she lay there, her eyes in the crook of her elbow, chest heaving. She felt him move. In a swift movement she was up on elbows looking down at him, making sure he was still there.

He peeked up at her, all wet chin and sly smile.

“You are incredible,” she told him deliberately.

“You taste incredible,” he responded, smoothly sliding up beside her, wiping his face with his hands then kissing and nipping her arms gently. “Not much room on this couch, perhaps the bedroom would be more fun?”

“What could be more fun than this?” As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she knew the answer.

\---


	4. The Bed

“Come on, let’s go.” He grabbed her shoulders and legs and stood, lifting her with him. She laughed in surprise and clung to his neck as he nudged open the bedroom door. “Ah, there we go, now that’s what I call a proper space to ‘bed’ someone, don’t you think?”

He lay her down on the made bed, then hastily picked up the jacket, tie and other remnants of his day that were laying next to her, flinging them onto a nearby chair. She pushed back the coverlet and sat up, knees together.

“Now now, no need to get up.” He was back on her in an instant, but she pushed him down, her tongue in her teeth.

“Oh no, I insist, Mr. Tennant. I can call you Mr. Tennant, can’t I?” His head rested on a pillow as her hands meandered from his chest to his hips, her gaze moving even lower. His erection was _lovely_ , indeed. “Or perhaps you prefer Mr. McDonald.”

His eyes flew open. “Ah, cheeky, that is, showing off, very nice. Perhaps a little creepy, though I suppose any fangirl worth her salt knows that.” By the time he’d finished speaking her mouth was very close to his stiffened cock and the words squeaked in his throat.

“Mmm. Perhaps I can raise your opinion of me.”

Her mouth opened and her tongue met the base of his shaft. His groan was music in her ears as she pushed upward slowly, keeping her hands on his hips. The tip of his penis slipped into her mouth and she tasted a drop of pre-cum, strange and new and so very much his.

“Oh God, Jennie,” he breathed as she wrapped her tongue around the head. Her eyes were on his expression, needing to see his eyes hooded with lust, his mouth open in gasps born of her ministrations. Causing that emotive face to react was among the strongest drives she’d ever felt. 

After making sure her tongue had covered every surface in wetness, she wrapped it around him one more time, licked him underneath, and pulled him down, down, all the way down.

His hands gripped the sheets. She kept him in for a brief moment then pulled up and his back arched even more. _Oh please don’t come yet,_ she thought as she shifted to as slow a motion as she could manage. She brought him all the way back out again, sucking on the end of his cock, caressing the edges of his head with lips and tongue. Taking him slightly deeper she bobbed slowly, maintaining a steady but gentle suction. Without any idea how quick his trigger was and with so much she wanted to do, a bit of caution was in order. She cupped his balls in a hand experimentally.

He had never ceased moaning. Now, he propped himself up on an elbow and took her hair in his fingers. “Ohhh yes. Yes. You are so good, you are so goooood, what a good girl you are….” Just the words, in his mouth, on his tongue, in her ears, were enough to drive her mad with need and she sped up, she rubbed him with her tongue, grabbed his ass with both hands, she pulled out all of her tricks at once, she couldn’t stop. His words evaporated and she felt his breath stop in his chest.

She jerked her head back, pulling completely away. They both froze for an instant, neither sure if she’d stopped in time. When nothing happened, he chuckled and grinned even bigger than before.

“Fucking hell! That was close. You are in so much trouble.”

“Ooh, I hope so.”

He grabbed her then, pinning her down at the shoulders with a sound half cackle of triumph and half grunt of lust. They kissed, she tasting herself, he tasting himself, then prodding deeper to taste each other once more. One hand on her ass and one on her breast and she thought _even if it ended here, ended now, just vanished around me, I’d still feel completely fulfilled._

But as his cock pushed for entry, she knew it wasn’t true.

His eyes flew to hers and he pulled back enough to see her entire face.  
“Is this what you want?” She saw true concern in his eyes, the fear that she’d turn him down, the desire to hear her beg for it, and the undeniable need driving everything.  
She did not pause. “Oh, David, yes, yes, I want this.”

He dipped low to kiss her thoroughly, hands exploring seemingly everywhere at once, then came up to ask once more, “Are you sure?”

She locked his gaze, put a hand along his jaw line and rubbed his cheek with her thumb, her face softening as she took in his mussed hair, his flushed skin, his impossibly deep eyes. “David Tennant, please, I want you, I need you, inside of me, now.”

His mouth panted wider as he slowly positioned himself, never taking his eyes off of her face. She held his shoulders as his moved his hands into place, one on her hip, the other to the back of her neck, fingers tangling in her hair. 

She felt his erection in exactly the right spot, pressing slightly against her folds, so close, so close. Her back arched inadvertently in anticipation. Holding her firmly he bent down, his lips nearly brushing hers. She noticed the corners of his eyes crinkle with a smile she couldn’t see.

“Allons-y,” he breathed, and thrust into her.

“DOCTOR!” she cried out helplessly, his length filling her, his tongue on her neck. He pulled back and thrust again, again, grunting into her throat, then moving up to lick her earlobe and pant her name into her ear.

The smell and touch of this man she had loved from afar for so long, this body she had dreamed of inside her embrace, this passion focused entirely upon her, her name on his tongue, it was incredible, it was delirium, it was too much, it was…impossible.

He was relentless and she took him fully. She met him stroke for stroke, digging in her nails, biting her lip and arching her hips just so, fitting herself to his shape, his pounding rhythm. He lost any control he may have had and they both tumbled towards the edge.

“DAVID!” she wailed, now sure that he was the one she wanted.

He dripped sweat and wrapped his arms around her. “Jennie, oh yes, yes Jennie, oh my God Jennie, I’m going to come in you…JEN-“ He broke off her name as his hips bucked erratically, shooting inside while her muscles gripped him, her own breaking point reached, arcing together like purple lightning between tesla coils. She called his name once more and all vanished in a blinding glow.

\---

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued. I hope someone found this interesting. :)


	5. The Doctor

\---  
Awareness returned, slowly. She dared not move first. _Anything to prolong this._ Her cheek lay on his hairy chest, allowing her to breathe in his scent without tipping off her awake state.

She knew he wasn’t asleep, either. His (single) heart beat beneath her. She couldn’t know if his eyes were open or closed, or what his expression held, but she dared not move.

He held her close.

After a time he touched her hair gently. She knew it was a signal but did not want to respond. His chest moved and she feigned immobility. He caressed her cheek and finally, she shifted to see his face.

Yes, it was still him, still impossibly him, looking down at her with his incredible intensity, still open to her. She could not resist and moved up to kiss him.

He responded, with an unexpected tenderness, lips on lips. When they finished, he tried to shift position and she obliged, letting him push up onto his elbow as she moved aside.

“Hello,” he said with a bit of a wolfish grin.

“Hello yourself,” she responded, pretending fervently that this could go on and on.

“That was amazing.” He meant it, and his honesty was completely disarming. She bathed in it for a moment.

“You are amazing.” She was trying to make him grin more and it was working. They paused for a beat, just being.

He took a breath. “I didn’t think I was looking for this, here. I know I wasn’t. I just wanted a drink. Like you said,” he added, looking her up and down.

Her eyes turned wistful. “Well I sure never expected to find you here.” Coming back, she tilted her head at him. “But here you are, here we are, and it was wonderful, and now, it’s over.” Her eyes narrowed almost in pain but she dared not close them.

_Don't turn your back, don't look away, and don't blink._

“Aw come on, don’t say that.” His tone was so comforting that she had to smile. He nudged her with his nose, let a hand caress her stomach. “I mean, of course, I know what you’re saying. But I really wouldn’t mind if you stayed the night. Can’t possibly let you leave without breakfast. Might be best if we called room service. Even in the States it’s best to stay discreet, but still, you can stay, if you like.”

“You…you want me to stay?”

“Yeah, of course I do. What sort of man do you think I am, anyway?” His tone was playful and he pulled her to spoon with him, nuzzling her neck, placing light kisses on her skin. “Besides, it’s not at all late, the wine has had a bit of a breather, and,” he continued, pretext of a normal conversation dissolving rapidly as he nearly growled, “I’m not sure I want to let go of you just yet.” The kisses were increasing in intensity and soon his teeth nipped her flesh. He held a breast firmly, playing with the nipple as his mouth worked magic on her neck, giving her exhausted body new life. The haze of lust was filling her head again but a sudden thought pierced through.

“You said Allons-y.” Her words came out in awe, catching him off guard. His laugh rung in the air, then he held her close again.

“Mmm, I did.”

Her expression changed to comical annoyance as she turned to face him as best she could. “That wasn’t fair!”

“Oh, so you’d rather I didn’t, eh?” He was ever so amused.

“No, no. But still! Not fair. I really thought I could keep focused but then you threw that in…”

“And then you called me ‘Doctor’,” he pointed out.

“I did.” She blushed hotly. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be! Oh please please don’t be.” He grinned and kissed her forehead. “It’s what I wanted, of course.” He looked around as if declaring his intentions to a crowd. “I admit it, it’s what I wanted!”  
She giggled, covering her mouth at the absurdity of it. She said one word, bluntly, calling him out. 

“NERD.”

“I am.” _Could his smile get any wider?_ “But then, you knew that, didn’t you? By the way, been practicing that Rose Tyler tongue often enough, fangirl?”

Ouch. At first all she could manage was a smirk. Her pride was a little hurt, even as she knew he was just poking fun. _It’s not like I expect him to fall in love with me, or think of me as anything but a fangirl, so what’s the problem? Besides, this guy is a bigger geek than me anyway._ She put on a brave face and shot back, “So you’d rather I didn’t? I thought you rather liked Rose’s tongue, Doctor.”

His eyes widened. “Oh, I like it. I like it very much.” Was it just her imagination, or was his accent changing again? Should she follow this and see where it goes? _He had asked for it, right? Why on earth would I say no?_

She arched an eyebrow at him. “But why should I favor you with any of my various body parts? I’ve come for David Tennant but you seem to have hidden him from me. Isn’t that just like you, always meddling in the business of others.” It was hard to avoid her own attempt at britishy-ness and she only partially succeeded.

It was like a switch was thrown inside of him. His face shifted, his demeanor altered, and she could swear that the man himself had been swapped before her eyes. He sat up.

“Meddling? I’ll have you know that we Time Lords are sworn to only observe. Sure, sometimes things have gone askew in the time stream and the situation needs a bit of a helping hand to get back in line.” The explainer, the setup, the cocksure delivery, it was breathtaking to have it right here, with her. His tone darkened, his head tilted back, his eyes widened. “Such as this very occasion. You’re not supposed to be here, Jennie, this is all wrong.”

“Wrong?” It was all she could manage to squeak out.

“All wrong. The cracks in space time are all around us! You may think you’re distracting me from the obvious but you can’t pull that past me, I’m FAR too clever.”

“Me? Distract YOU? I wasn’t the one pulling out the room key.” She tried to keep it playful but something wasn't right. “I admit, very clever of you to get me up here before I could get another drink in you. I might have taken advantage!” _What am I saying?_

“But that’s just it, isn’t it? You saunter in as if this is your home planet and before you can say ‘Raxacoricofallapatorius’…”

“Ooh, nice pull, Nine, I’m impressed.” She was giving him the Tyler tongue again.

“Oh do shut up,” he sputtered comically. “Anyway, before you know it, you’ve got me between the sheets. Which never happens to me! Er, me, the Doctor. Never happens to the Doctor.” Fumbling over corrections he let himself fall back down to the pillows, rolling away from her.

A slight lull descended and a realization fired in her mind. “Wait, do you mean that? What you said? You mean this doesn’t happen to you?” She hadn’t moved, and his back was towards her, revealing nothing. “I mean, I assumed…I never thought….It only makes sense…”

He rolled over to look at her. “I meant it doesn’t happen to me.” He looked away, reconsidering. “Ok, not often. I don’t often pick up girls. I don’t need a hundred stories in the Daily Mail. You can’t trust everyone.” He shook his head slightly.

She gave him a testing sideways glance. “So…I must be an alien, then, sent to throw you off course?”

“No,” he rasped, grabbing her waist and pulling her underneath him. She felt her skin react to his firm hold, felt him stiffening between them.

“No, Jennie, you must be an incredibly attractive woman who also happens to be brilliant in bed.”  
\---


End file.
